


I Could Make You Sore

by High_Spanxicutioner



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/F, Fluffy Kink Experimentation, Gay Girlfriends, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Spanxicutioner/pseuds/High_Spanxicutioner
Summary: The Lucky 38's prestigious and lavish Presidential Suite offers an unparalleled escape from the horrors and difficulties of the Wasteland. When one is faced with a little downtime in such an exquisite environment, with someone they've grown extremely fond of over the past few months, sometimes the pastimes can become a little bit... carnal.





	I Could Make You Sore

"So, uh... you're sure about this, right?"

  
Only a slight amount of hesitance creeps into Veronica's peppy tone as she speaks, the scribe anxiously looking down at the woman sprawled over her lap. The quiet, calm confines of the Lucky 38's luxurious Presidential Suite is a stark contrast to the hectic mayhem of the Mojave, but even its comparatively tranquil surroundings can't quite quell the anxiety of experimental activities...  
"Y'know, if I weren't, I would've said so already." Her companion answers, thick Southern drawl exacerbated by the lazy, laid-back inflection of her words. "I sure as hell wouldn't be bent over your damn knees with my whole ass out, neither."  
Whether it's the calm tone that soothes her anxieties, or the quiet logic behind the words, Veronica can't tell- but she definitely feels a little better, tracing her fingertips lightly over the bare skin of the Courier's rounded backside. Her power fist lays off to the side, standing upright atop a disused Old World desk, something that usually makes her feel naked and unsafe- but, in the face of her (what? companion? friend? ...girlfriend?) being more literally naked and sprawled over her knees, she's feeling a little more comfortable in her own skin. Who knows, she reflects, perhaps she'll end up shedding her robes before the evening's done with.

  
She's definitely starting to feel a little hot and bothered...

  
"Cool, cool. Just, y'know, I don't want you to be completely miserable during this, or anything."   
The Courier snorts, resting her elbow on the soft duvet of the Suite's decadent bed, then settling her chin onto her palm and glancing over her shoulder to Veronica, her expression largely unreadable; but, luckily, with an undercurrent of coy amusement.  
"You really think this is the first time I've signed up to get my ass beat? I know what I'm signing on for here, babe."  
"That's *kinda* what I'm worried about. Don't want to... bring up bad memories, or anything." Veronica murmurs, letting her fingertips drift down until they're tracing over the Courier's upper thighs. The way the other woman trembles and shifts beneath her from the motion goes some way towards convincing the Scribe that everything that's happening is wanted, but Veronica's well aware that at some point she's going to have to bite the metaphorical bullet and start smacking.  
So, as the Courier starts to prep her lazy, snarky response, Veronica swiftly lifts her hand, hesitating for only a split second before it falls back down for a sharp, resounding SMACK right onto the curve of the Courier's ass- prompting a gasp of surprise and a muttered "oh, shit" from the woman. It's an emboldening response, even discounting the gorgeous pink handprint that blossoms on the pale skin, and it's enough to ensure Veronica feels much, much more enthused with the idea of dishing out a nice firm ass-beating.

  
Giving her compatriot a few moments to adjust, feeling the woman shift and press her thighs together with a little more urgency than she'd been showing at any stage before now, Veronica lets out a quiet little snicker, her free hand gently smoothing down the Courier's untamed hair. Of course, a single swat isn't going to shake the Courier down out of her composure, no matter how surprisingly hard it was, and as a direct result that slightly gravelly drawl pipes up but a second later.

  
"That all you got, Vee? Damn, guess we've been fighting a bunch of pansies." The Courier teases, punctuating the implicit challenge with a shake of her hips- it's a goading motion, and it's one that Veronica knowingly falls for, her free hand pushing the Courier's grinning face back down into the mattress to the sound of muffled laughing. Another ringing slap lands on those upturned cheeks a second later, prompting a jump in the Courier's voice as she continues giggling; and at that point, Veronica is completely convinced that she has free reign to go relatively ham on her friend.

  
"Oh, you asked for it, missy!" Veronica exclaims, her tone far closer to joyful than to irate, as she readies her palm to deliver a fast flurry of swats; her hand practically *bounces* off the Courier's ass, the sheer sound of the impact ringing over the walls of their swanky hotel room almost as loud as a gunshot, albeit packing far less of a sting.  
Still, it's more than enough to start the Courier's responses shifting from teasing giggles to more genuine gasps and yelps, splotchy pink handprints spreading over her pale cheeks as Veronica's hand drums a steady tattoo onto them.   
"Y'know, I can forgive a lot of stuff, but my punching technique is *super* off limits!" She mock-scolds, pausing in her assault on the Courier's rear end in favour of giving each lightly-stinging cheek a firm squeeze, strong fingers massaging in the marks she'd made after just the minute or so they've been at it. "You're sure as hell gonna be sleeping on your front when we're done here."  
"Mm... that a promise?" Comes the response, as if on cue- clearly aiming to fluster Veronica, a feat usually easily performed. This time, though, the Scribe is confident and assured, emboldened by her position of power. All that the Courier's words earn her is another swift slap to the meatiest part of her behind, prompting a rather gorgeous jiggle and an equally fetching gasp from the woman. For a few moments, Veronica simply goes back to tracing her fingers gently over the other woman's backside, admiring the pink marks she'd made while she considers how to proceed, before she eventually decides on a particular tactic; the boldest move she's made yet, her hand shifting down to cup and grind between the Courier's legs as she leans herself down, breath hot against the Courier's ear as she speaks up.

  
"Okay, here's the plan. I'm gonna give you everything I've got, and if you can't take any more, say 'cazadore'. How's that sound?"   
There's a moment of almost-silence as the Courier writhes in place, punctuated only by the sound of her grunting into her balled-up fist, before she gives a shaky nod and pipes herself up.  
"Sounds just peachy, Vee. Your arm's gonna wear out 'fore my ass does, though, I can promise you that."  
The words prompt nothing but a scoff from Veronica, the Scribe sitting back upright and moving both hands free in order to rub them together and build the anticipation just that little bit further.  
"Ha! Big words from the woman sprawled over my knees and humping my leg."  
"The fuck are you talking about, I ain't hum- fuck!" The Courier's puzzled question gets cut off by Veronica's strong palm falling down onto her ass once again, harder than it had previously. Before she can regain her composure and make another comment, though, Veronica simply spanks her again- it's a slower pace than before, by a marginal amount, a clockwork rhythm that beats a vibrant, stinging red onto her. Each harsh swat jolts the hardened mercenary forward an almost comical amount, leading to the precise occurrence that Veronica had been teasing about before, the Courier grinding her hips downwards onto her domme's toned thighs.  
While she'd started the evening out with teasing remarks and prideful boasting, the Courier finds herself not really even able to string together a coherent sentence as Veronica gives her the ass-beating she's been promised, her vocalisations reduced to wordless squealing and single words, copious "Fuck!"s and "Jesus!"s spilling from her mouth. There seems to have been a little truth to her boasting, however; true to her word, she can take quite a beating, her poor ass-cheeks a throbbing, fiery cherry-red by the time her safeword finally gets uttered- which, naturally, brings the proceedings to a hard stop, Veronica very gently patting the burning hindquarters in front of her as the Courier works on controlling her breathing and dealing with the rush of emotions and adrenaline she's experiencing at the moment.

  
"Hff. Okay. Alright. I admit it." She says, peeking up over her hands and through her ruffled hair. "You're the best unarmed combatant I've ever met. Kiss me better, now?"  
Veronica laughs, leaning back onto her palms and giving the Courier a hot and heavy look, a grin curling her lips as she speaks.  
"I dunno, man. It kinda feels like you should be the one giving me a certain kind of kiss, if you catch my drift."  
Her eyebrows waggle dorkily, and the Courier grins back, the merc pushing herself up onto her knees before practically pouncing onto her lover, the two falling onto the bed and dissolving into happy giggles.

 


End file.
